Proof
by sireneris
Summary: Something is wrong with Cameron, and House needs to figure out why she is acting so mysteriously. This digging also might change the essence of their relationship, but isn't there an algorithm to figure that all out?
1. Fermat's Enigma

**Chapter One: Fermat's Enigma**

Allison Cameron did not call in sick to work. Other doctors called in sick to work, leaving her with a backup of patients in the ER and a shortage of help. When she was sick, she made sure to change her gloves often and wore a mask to prevent the spread of germs, and along with other precautions, she went about her day.

Allison Cameron also did not take time off from work. Once, Cuddy forced her to take time off since she had accumulated so much, and she had enjoyed herself, but she called to check in every other day and she brought mountains of paperwork with her. Being a department head didn't necessarily mean being like House; in fact, it could mean being quite the opposite.

Chase came into the ER sometime around noon on this particular Thursday, with some silly excuse that he needed to get some gloves since his entire department was out. Cameron had no time for this, since she had just broken up with him less than a week ago. Just as she was turning to pick up another chart, he grabbed her shoulders. She involuntary jerked away from his touch.

"Allison," he said, his accent thick, "Come on, something's wrong. You've lost weight… do you have a fever? Why don't you come over tonight and we can talk about things?"

"Robert, I can't… we can't. I can't keep doing this, and I'm really busy right now, so if you don't mind…" She swayed a little bit.

"Of course not," said Chase, warily defeated. "Go get checked out, though, the flu's going around."

"Bye, Chase," she said as she turned to a new patient, wiping sweat from her brow. She understood it was winter, but did they have to keep it so hot in here?

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Later that night, she found herself in the locker room, in front of the full length mirror, in her underwear. "Nice, Allison," she muttered to herself. It would just happen, of course, that the one time she didn't want to lose weight she happened to drop a few pounds like that.

"Very nice, Allison," said a voice behind her, and she grabbed her towel, damp from her shower, embarrassed.

"Sorry," came the very not-sorry voice of Dr. Greg House, a childish smile on his face.

Cameron blushed and turned towards the other doctor. "No problem. What are you doing here?" she said coolly, long since learned how to deal with awkward situations due to her years with her old boss.

She pulled on her jeans and a tank top, and twisted her damp hair into a bun on top of her head.

"I wanted to know... are you alright?" he asked.

"My-" she began, and then stopped. "Yeah, I'm fine." She couldn't believe she came so close to saying that out loud. Not that he mattered; she just hadn't actually verbalized what happened yet, not even to Chase, before they broke up. Her little secret.

"Your?" asked House, but he didn't expect an answer. Cameron gathered up her bags to go.

"I wanted to know if you want to grab some coffee?"

"Um... Yeah, let's go, who needs sleep when there's coffee," said Cameron with a smile.

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Thirty minutes later, they were seated across from each other in a nearly empty café near the hospital. Cameron slowly sipped her tea while House ate a big cookie.

"You're sick," said House.

"Am not," said Cameron, knowing it was not one of her better comebacks.

"You are sweating, yet you are huddled in your sweater, you have a sore throat, that's why you chose tea over coffee, and your eyes are red and puffy, yet I see no trace of tears. I'm guessing there's also a headache, since your blinking is off and you're touching your temples, and you probably took something for the runny nose at the ER."

"Coffee date is now diagnostics date?" deflected Cameron.

"Is now a date?" asked House with a smirk. "You have the flu."

"I'm fine, the ER is about to be massively busy these next few days, and we're down a few doctors from vacations. I don't have time to be sick. Besides, I take precautions not to infect any patients."

"And why, Dr. Cameron, would you need to take precautions if you weren't sick?" House felt Cameron's forehead and felt, as expected, a moderate fever.

Cameron backed away from her former boss's hand on her forehead, unsure of where her walls suddenly sprang up from. Then, deflecting as always, checked her watch, and realized she needed to get home, though she wasn't sure to what. She had no boyfriend anymore, no pets, no curfew, no… anything.

"I have to go, House, it's been, interesting…"

"Goodbye, Dr. Cameron, take care of yourself."

"Bye, House,"

And then she was gone. He watched her drive out of the parking lot, and looked into her teacup which wasn't even half empty. He knew there were more pieces to this puzzle, He just couldn't see them all yet.


	2. The Linear Approximation

**Chapter Two: The Linear Approximation**

There was so much they didn't know. Word hadn't gotten out until that very day that she had broken up with Chase. She had dropped four more pounds in a week, and no one could tell through her scrubs. She was coping in her own perverse way with what was maybe possibly grief over the death of her father, whom she hadn't spoken to in years, and they had no idea. She was coming to work very obviously ill, yet no one barred her from entering. It was all so surreal, made even stranger by her fever and the ineffective flu medication.

House or Chase hadn't been seen in the ER, and there were no more coffee dates or non dates, and she was happy about that. She couldn't process another human relationship at the moment.

After a long night in the ER, Cameron took her usual semi-relaxing shower. Tonight, however, she felt someone's presence in the locker room. Wrapped in her towel, she peered around the rows of metal lockers until she saw him- House. He was leaning against the last row of lockers, his cane pointed towards her, her bra dangling off the edge. As she went to grab it he snatched it back.

"Ah, ah, ah, what's the magic word?" he teased.

"Give it, House, I'm tired and sick, and I want to go home."

"Why would you even come here if you're sick? Oh, wait, you're a masochist, my former masochist in fact, yet something's off, you're on edge."

She hated how he could read into her. He tossed her the bra and hobbled towards her. She inched away. "Cammie doesn't want to spend time with Housey anymore? What is going on? I hear the Wombat is out of the picture, I thought I might have a shot," he said, flashing her a big, fake smile.

"Don't… go there…" she said, the last two words barely audible. He reached out his hands and she backed away, but he was persistent, and showed her she could trust him though his eyes. She walked towards him and he placed his hands on her neck.

"Your lymph nodes are huge. Go get some help. Also, you're losing too much weight; it's not hot as much as freaky now, please stop."

His concern was genuine, and she was touched by it, but she couldn't ease the heavy anxiety that weighed her down everywhere, the boxes in her apartment that she needed to do something with.

"Get dressed and I'll walk you to your car," he said gruffly.

She went behind another set of lockers and finished changing, and walked out with him. She could tell he was really concerned, from the way he grabbed her arm once or twice when he thought she might be swaying. "I'm fine, House, I can make it home. I'll even text you when I get there, Mom," she said with a smirk.

"Right…" he said, deep in thought as he hobbled off towards his bike, which he rode even though it had snowed that day.

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House noticed Cameron was taking her lunches in Wilson's office, a fact that House, of course, thought he might be able to use to his advantage.

"What are they discussing?" he asked Thirteen, who was charting at the nurses station nearby.

"No idea," she said, "Is something wrong?"

"Differential Diagnosis for weight loss, sore throat, swollen lymph nodes, fatigue, and strange behavior?"

"The flu… and… anxiety?"

"But what is she anxious about? She's free from the Wombat, she's head of her department, doing a perfect job running it…" House paused as Wilson's soothing voice could be heard responding to a question Cameron asked.

"Think Cammie has c-c-c-cancer?" he asked, in a mocking voice, yet Thirteen could see worry lines etched on his face.

"She might, I mean, he is an oncologist. But I think she is definitely more damaged than she pretends to be,"

House nodded in agreement and they backed behind a nurse's station as Cameron came out of Wilson's office, and strode down the hall, not paying the slightest attention to them. She was pale and a little green, and she didn't look like she could stay standing much longer.

Thirteen saw her dash into a bathroom, and followed to see if she was alright, and House rounded on Wilson.

Wilson threw his arms up in a defensive position. "I can't say a word! You can't drag it out of me, so don't waste your time! It's between her and me."

"But, but, I'm your favorite!"

"Do you know how you extrapolate data? How the farther and farther you extrapolate from the original data points, the less accurate your estimation will be? Don't assume, House. She'll tell you if she wants to, but don't insult her by trying to find something that fits."

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Later that night, House sat at the glass table in the differential room and stared at the white board. He didn't dare draw her case up there after Wilson's warning, but he wanted to. His fellows sat, waiting for six o'clock when they could leave, entertaining themselves by doing crosswords and research online.

Cuddy came in, wearing her usual low-cut blouse. "I need two people to help in the clinic, and two in the ER." House shot Thirteen a glance and she volunteered them for the ER. Cuddy asked Thirteen to deliver a letter to Cameron, it arrived at the hospital that afternoon.

House walked with Thirteen down to the ER, and begged her to open the envelope, but she held it firmly in her hand. She gave it to Dr. Cameron as soon as she saw her in the ER, which took a little while since it was swarmed this evening. Even House was forced to pick up charts and start dealing with people pretty quickly.

After about twenty minutes, Thirteen needed Cameron's signature on a form and set off in search of her, only to find that she was not down in the ER.

"House, Cameron's gone. She's not down here but her shift's not over."

"Shit. Page Foreman and try the roof," said House, mentally cursing his leg.

"The roof?"

"Just do it!"

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Five minutes later, Thirteen found herself jogging up the last flight of stairs to the roof, Foreman on her heels. She opened the door and was immediately engulfed in falling snow. Cameron was standing on the other side of the roof, holding a letter and a photo in her hand. Thirteen walked closer and she could hear her sobbing. She could also hear that her breathing was severely strained.

"Allison," called Foreman, reaching out and touching her shoulder. She spun away from him, and looked into Thirteen's eyes, her own green eyes both exhausted and manic.

"Thirteen, he's dead. He's dead, he's dead, Thirteen, he died." She looked at them for a moment longer and then collapsed into the snow.


	3. Limits

**Chapter Three: Limits**

A/N: Reviews much appreciated.

SouthPaw608: I changed it from Thirteen/Cameron to House/Cameron because it was flowing better that way, and House/Cameron seemed more natural for where this story is going, although I really love Thirteen/Cameron.

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Cameron hadn't felt anything in such a long time. Her mother called her to tell her that her father had died and she was in a state of shock. She could barely form the words to tell her mother she wasn't, correction, couldn't come home for the service.

Her mother had hung up on her just as Chase walked in. He was pissed at her being so closed off lately, and so distracted. She was in no mood to explain herself to him tonight, even if he had his own history of father issues.

Still, he picked a fight and she picked up the defensive. She fought like she had been raised, to consider each point in a logical, mathematical direction and then fire off a counterargument that would render that assumption false. Chase was frustrated in no time and his voice grew louder and louder. She was working on autopilot, shutting down without even realizing it.

He grabbed her shoulders, trying to shake her out of her rambling. She stared up at his confused, concerned, angry expression, still unable to feel anything but shock. "It's over," she said suddenly, without meaning to, not sure if she was referring to their relationship or her father's life. She supposed she meant both, since it was all crumbling to pieces around her.

"Allison," he called, "be reasonable,"

"I am being reasonable. I can't do this, I can't be here any longer, I can't-" What was possibly a sob was lodged in her throat and she rushed from the room, packing up all the things she stored in his apartment, eager to extract herself from his life as efficiently as possible.

"You can't leave tonight, it's late, come on…" He was still convinced that he could change her mind.

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A few days later, she still couldn't feel. She couldn't feel hunger, she couldn't feel hot or cold, she couldn't feel her own exhaustion. She just put on her coat because it's what should be done, prepared herself a salad because otherwise people worry, and tried to dig deeper and figure out why she couldn't deal with his death.

She tried to pinch herself, nothing. She tried to scratch with her nails, no effect. She turned to cutting, and that helped for a bit, but she knew the answer lay deeper. And as she considered herself, Dr. Allison Cameron, perfect Dr. Cameron, bleeding on her bathroom floor, she knew it had to stop.

She avoided the box of his things that he left her. It was what shipped to her apartment and currently at in her guest room. She kept the door closed and now she didn't even enter. That she could deal with, that was just a minor impediment. The letter stopped her right in her tracks, though. Handwritten from her father, from his deathbed. Sent by her mother, on his wishes, after he had passed. It contained a photograph of Cameron and her father, in his office at the University, but taken when she was much younger and when he was much… different.

She read it and saw the photo and suddenly, the emotions came in full force. The obstruction in her throat from that night at Chase's came unstuck, and she bolted. She had to get air, and she had to get away. She could feel everything and anything, and suddenly, she didn't want to anymore.

Up on the roof, the snow was too cold, she was too hot, the world was too big, her lungs were too weak, her father was too… something, and she couldn't take it anymore. She tried to explain it to Thirteen, who she hoped had some semblance of what she was going through, either from watching her or from personal experience, but she was afraid she just terrified the younger doctor.

All she could remember before passing out was repeating that terrible mantra to her, "He's dead, he's dead, Thirteen," And I can feel it. I know it. I don't know what to do about it. Help me.

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She woke up in a hospital bed, hooked to oxygen and an IV drip. "Can I see my chart?" she asked the blurry figure to her left, who turned out to be Chase. "What are you-"

"Allison, what's going on?" he asked, diving right in to where she didn't want to go yet.

"What's wrong with me?" she asked in a surprisingly small voice.

"You have the flu and you developed pneumonia, a pretty severe case in fact, and… something else," he said, eyeing her.

"Yeah?" she asked, unsure of what he was getting at.

"What aren't you telling me? I think I deserve to know-"

"You don't deserve to know anything because we aren't together anymore. So unless you have some doctoring to do, please leave," she said, this speech causing her to be out of breath from her weakened lungs.

"Allie… don't do this," he insisted, moving towards her, grabbing her hand.

"She said get out, now." Cameron turned her head to see Thirteen standing in the doorway. Chase made an obscene gesture in her direction and then left, and Thirteen poured Cameron a glass of water.

"I hadn't talked to him in years."

Thirteen laughed. "Sorry," she said quickly, "It's just, you and your father obviously had some tension. My father and I, we barely get on these days, House and his father… well yeah, and Chase had some serious issues with his dad too."

"So it's probably not worth passing out on a rooftop over?" asked Cameron sarcastically.

"Please don't do that again, you scared my shitless," admitted Thirteen.

"Sorry, I'm… working through some stuff?" she offered.

"I figured that much out on my own, strangely enough," said Thirteen.

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Cameron was woken up in the middle of the night by a strange squelching noise. She turned to see House at the sliding door, a dry erase marker in his hand. "It's just like Looking-Glass Land" he mouthed, causing Cameron to furrow her brow.

He then pulled out an old three ring binder, and began to flip through it until he got to what he wanted. He wrote a differential equation on the door, a little sloppy since he had to write the mirror image, and then he continued on until his proof was finished.

When he came into the room, he saw that Cameron's worry lines had only increased after seeing the writing. "What? Just a little warm-up exercise," he joked.

"Where did you get that binder?" she asked nervously.

"A tiny room in your apartment,"

"Why…"

"Because, Dr. Cameron, you're quite the enigma. Want to talk about daddy?"

"I want to go to sleep."

"Ugh, maybe another time, say, as soon as you wake up?" he sat in the chair next to her bed and pulled out his game boy. "Don't worry," he assured her, "It's my Calc 3 game".


	4. The Squeeze Theorem

**Chapter Four: The Squeeze Theorem**

a/n: sorry it's a little shorter!  


"House, why are you getting involved?" asked Wilson, after dragging his friend into the hallway outside Cameron's room.

"Well, maybe I didn't 'deserve' to know before, but one of my former ducklings collapsing on the roof, partly because of a traumatic history she's carrying around with her seems like a pretty good reason for me to get involved." House was surprised at his own defensiveness of Cameron. Since when had he felt… anything for the woman?

"House, I know you probably actually mean well for her, but we're working through this, you don't need to get involved," said Wilson, sounding exasperated.

"Yeah, you really worked through it. Obviously whatever you're doing is not enough, I have a right to talk to her too you know,"

"House, you are brash and rude, that's really not what she needs right now."

"Well, unless you're going to tell me what's going on, I'm going to feel my way through this the best way that I can." Wilson shook his head back and forth in frustration and defeat, then turned and left. House watched him walk away down the dim hallway, and looked at the large box that was currently sitting in the hallway beside the room. Cameron hadn't noticed yet. He paged Kutner who was currently staying overnight to make sure the patient was responding to treatment.

"What's going on?"asked Kutner as he approached, peering into the room behind House.

"Focus on my pretty face, not hers," chastised House, slamming his cane down on the cardboard box.

"Is that Dr. Cameron? Thirteen said-"

"Nevermind that! I need you to go through these and tell me what they mean. It's for a patient. But uh, top-secret, you know, wink-wink, nudge, nudge,"

"Right… What are they?"

"Math… and physics and personal stuff. You're great at all that, right? Bye!"

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"House," he heard her call, her voice weak. He turned away from his game, glad to see she was awake again. Her fever had been dangerously high when they admitted her, and the pneumonia had been present for much too long without treatment. He glad to see her fever dropping little by little, and surprised to see he cared.

"What?" he asked, his voice thick with mock-annoyance.

"What did you do with the rest of the box?"

"It's sitting in your guest room, untouched. I did borrow a box of tampons though, I've been running low."

Unfazed by his antics, she pressed on. "Is it in this room right now, is it at your apartment or is it with one of your fellows?"

"Taub," he said in reply, looking at her with puppy dog eyes.

"Right… Kutner?"

"I knew there was a reason I had to fire you."

"You didn't fire me, House." House stood up, and checked her chart. He moved her table away from the bed and plopped himself down so he was sitting at the end where her feet were. He look up at her.

"Tell me what he did, what was his job."

"He was a college professor. He taught quantum mechanics to graduate students, though he still taught undergrads when we were speaking. He was brilliant, but he was messed up."

"Messed up?" House couldn't believe he had never heard this side of Cameron before. He figured that crying over a centrifuge was as damaged as it got.

"He was an addict. When I was younger, it was mostly drinking. He was in and out of AA, carrying on with classes. It wasn't until he started using that he got fired from a university where he was teaching.

"And there was the gambling. He would leave for Reno, for Vegas, for weeks at a time, coming back with thousands in debt. It was awful, those last few years at home."

"And how does someone with a father like that become a doctor?" House asked, thoroughly curious as to how she got away.

"My parents are divorced. My mom calls my dad the worst mistake she ever made. He's brilliant, he really is, but he's impossible to live with. I was raised by her and her side of the family, and only had to see him for a few weeks a year.

"He… he missed my wedding completely, away on some gambling trip no doubt, but he came to my husband's funeral. He was drunk, and he tried to make a eulogy to a man he didn't even know. My mom said he overdosed, that's how he died. They don't know if it was intentional or not."

"I… I'm sorry, Cameron." He got up, grabbed his cane, and walked towards the door.

"House!" called Cameron, making him turn back towards her. "Still think the answers are so simple?"

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	5. The String Theory

**Chapter Five: The String Theory**

A few days later, Cameron was discharged, and Cuddy insisted that she take a few days off before returning to work. House was strangely lonely without someone to sit with while he watched his afternoon soaps, and he thought that she was making excellent progress talking through her father's life and death, even if he wasn't the ideal listener.

"Dr. House! I finished going through that stuff you told me was top-secret!"

"Kutner! What are you, an idiot? Why would you yell that?"

"Sorry, Dr. House, it's just I-"

"What did you find?" interrupted House, eager to know what was in the box.

"Well, there were binders of quantum mechanics stuff. What was weird was that some of it was great, it seemed brilliant and then some of it was a mess and it didn't make any sense, like not even genius sense, it was just like he thought he was brilliant in his own mind."

"He?"

"Oh! Yeah, Professor… Donner," said Kutner. "I also found loads of lottery tickets, some maps of Nevada and cities nearby, and matches and coasters from tons of bars, I'd say this guy was an alcoholic. He had notebooks where he would keep track of his students, but he would also keep track of the races and I think he would go to OTB. He also had some photos in the boxes… and this is where I think I leave," Kutner winked, and House grimaced, he knew Donner was Cameron's father.

"Not a word," he threatened. Kutner made a motion symbolizing zipping up his lips and throwing away the key that locked them. House was satisfied.

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"Thirteen! Walk with me!" Thirteen finished talking to their patient and slid the door shut. She followed House slowly down the hall.

"What is it about alcohol? And drugs? And money? Why can't we just leave it alone? Why do we develop addictions which ruin our lives?"

"I don't think I want to be a part of this conversation, House," said Thirteen, thinking of how much she hated her own privacy being invaded.

"Well, I figured you wouldn't tell anyone, so basically, I tell you, and that's bad, but the secret spreading stops there. This isn't junior high. I want a consult… ish,"

"House, no. if her father is an addict and she told you, fine, but she didn't tell me,"

"Hmm… New Cameron isn't giving me any clues, time to go see Old Cameron,"

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Cameron heard the knocking and debated ignoring it. Chase had been by earlier with some soup she didn't eat, and she hadn't even let him come in. She knew she was treating him unfairly cruelly, but she just couldn't process her emotions about him along with everything else right now.

She was currently watching a movie she had stored on her DVR for a while, wearing a large sweater and her favorite sweatpants which she didn't get to wear nearly often enough. Yes, whoever was at the door would just have to wait.

"But you forget I have your key!" said House from behind her, surprising her. "How do you think I got in last time?"

"How did you get my key? I have my key!" she said defensively, feeling the side table for it, trying to slow her racing heart.

"Ah, yes, you do, but alas, the Wombat does not," he said with a smirk. "And based on his icy demeanor earlier, I'd say that it's probably best that he no longer has one."

"Yes, I'd agree… though I don't know if you should have one," she said, reaching for the small piece of metal in his hand. It was as if he had too much of her now, holding that key, coming and going as he pleased.

"I brought you something," he said, and after seeing her half-suspicious, half-exasperated look, he pulled out some paperwork from the backpack he had hitched over his shoulder.

"Thank you," she said, "I wasn't really in the mood for chicken noodle anyway,"

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House found himself plopped on her surprisingly comfortable couch an hour later, engrossed in the movie she was watching. It was awful, but that was what he thrived on. He watched soaps for at least three hours a day, and never passed up a chance for some WWE action. Cameron was sitting on a big chair on the other end of the small living room, struggling to keep her eyes open. He mentally cursed himself for not finishing the task he came here to do: figure her out.

The movie ended and Cameron got up, moving glasses to the sink and folding her blanket over the back of the chair. "Um…" she began.

"Yes?" he asked, his sarcasm evident.

"Would you… want to go to Vegas… with me?"

"Um… hell yes?"

"I… I wasn't going to go, but my father's house needs to be sold, and some things taken care of, and my brother's out of the country, so I'm going down for a week or two. I've got the vacation time, but I don't really want to go alone," she finished, looking at him with almost pleading eyes.

"I'll go, I'm sure it will thrill Cuddy to no end. Also, it's Vegas. ...You gonna be ok?" he asked her, unsure of where the question came from.

"I think so," she said. "We leave in two days." She coughed a few times, the last evidence of her illness still not leaving her.

"Aye, aye," said House. He put on his jacket and left her apartment, feeling strangely excited about the adventure they were about to embark on, even if it was for less than perfect reasons.


	6. Scientific Notation

**Chapter Six: Scientific Notation **

**A/N: Please read and review, it makes me write faster. (Thanks to everyone who already reviewed)**

Cameron packed her suitcase, zipping it shut with a sharp intake of breath. She wasn't sure why she asked House to come with her to Vegas; she just knew his strange sardonic presence was a comfort to her recently. She grabbed her keys and cell phone and walked out of her apartment, locking the door and then checking it.

She got in her car and drove to the hospital, glad that it was early and the rush of people that usually crowd the ER had not arrived. Several people looked at her strangely; she was not wearing her usual pink scrubs.

She walked to the nurses' station and dropped off the paperwork that she had been working on during her time off, and she checked over how things were running with the head nurse. She told them all not to expect her back for at least another week, and she grabbed some more paperwork to get ahead on while she was gone, all the while thinking about the joys of being a department head.

She then got back in her car, picked up two coffees, and pulled up in front of House's apartment. She knocked a few times to no response, but she found the door ajar.

"…House?"

"Morning, sunshine!" called House from somewhere deeper in the apartment. Cameron hesitantly moved towards the bedroom, and found him shoving clothes into a duffle, part of her sure that the t-shirts and jeans put into the bag were most definitely not clean laundry.

"House, we have to get to the airport!" she said, a little flustered. She put the coffees on his nightstand and went into his bathroom, packing up what she hoped were the necessary things for the trip.

"Thank you, Mommy, I haven't packed on my own, well, ever, with you and Wilson around," came House's sarcastic reply.

Eventually, the duffle was full and they were off to the airport. The luggage was checked, and Cameron stood in the security line with high anxiety as she tried again and again to talk sense into House about treating the TSA people with some respect.

Somehow, miraculously, House was only pulled aside momentarily, and his sarcastic rhetoric did not delay them too much, although it did annoy the TSA official. "I'm just a bastard, not a terrorist," he said, in a falsely reassuring voice. Cameron hushed him, she was still convinced they would not let him fly.

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Hours later, House stepped off a plane in Las Vegas, Nevada. Cameron had spent most of the flight doing silly things like listening to music and doing Sudoku puzzles, demonstrating her strange inability to relax, even thousands of feet in the air. Luckily, House didn't pick up on her clenching, and was able to take a semi-satisfying nap during the flight.

House's first impression of Las Vegas (well, this was the first impression in a while), was that it was freezing. The airport had the air conditioner blasting. Cameron obviously noticed it too, pulling her sweater tighter around her as they stepped into the busy terminal, though that could also be her steeling herself for the events that were to come.

After renting a car and fighting through traffic, House pulled into a restaurant. Cameron wanted to get to the house, but House declared he was too hungry to go further without stopping for food. They stopped in a dingy Mexican restaurant on the outskirts of downtown, and House seemed very pleased with his selection.

Cameron was sipping water, while House had the daily drink special, which he was slightly hazy on the actual ingredients of. She looked at him disapprovingly as he ordered the house special "garbage plate", and he cast her a judgmental glance when she ordered a salad.

"So… continuing the diet, I see," he ventured as she picked through the wilting greens and pale tomatoes.

"Yeah… maybe I'd be eating if this salad was actually edible. And sorry I didn't go you're your obviously excellent choice, the umm… what do you have?"

"gahrdbadje bplaydte," said House, through a mouthful of unidentifiable meat and cheese combination.

"Right. And since when are you concerned with me eating?" she asked, always curious on his thoughts on her.

"I'm not. I just think that it's a waste of some perfectly good lobby art if you stop eating," he joked, and she cracked a small smile, showing that she understood how their relationship had evolved over the last three years.

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They finally arrived at the house in the evening, the sun low in the sky. The house was small but it had no neighbors in sight, and lots of land around it. It was blue, the paint chipping in places, but easily repairable. House could see how this house could be easily sold.

They pulled into the gravel driveway and House saw Cameron's brow furrow. There was a car already parked in the driveway. She got out of the car and slammed the door, quickly grabbing the luggage from the trunk, even slinging House's duffle over her shoulder.

She walked right into the front door, House right on her heels, eager to see this scene unfold. A man and woman were hunched over the dining room table, pouring over some papers. "Liam?" she called, half questioning, half accusing. The man looked up, while the woman moved from behind the table.

"What is _she_ doing here?" she asked.


	7. QED

**Chapter Seven: Q.E.D.**

"Allison, what are you doing here?" asked Liam, coming around the table. He embraced Cameron in a tight hug which obviously made her uncomfortable. House could smell alcohol on his breath, and he instantly tensed.

"Liam, I could ask you the same thing. I am here to take care of my father's estate," explained Cameron, now demanding an explanation. Liam looked at his wife who shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, uh, Rosie and I were just here, uh, looking over some things," he said. "We just wanted to make sure everything was in order, since you know, Jack was one of my closest friends."

"Liam, it looks like you are trying to make money off of what isn't yours. I would leave now before I call my lawyer and have him settle this," said Cameron, taking a step towards Liam. House could tell she was bluffing about having a lawyer ready, but he knew that Rosie and Liam bought the lie.

"Just wait one moment!" shouted Rosie, obviously drunk and greedy. "While you were busy at your fancy medical school and at your fancy job in New Jersey, someone had to take care of your father while he was drunk and high and poor and in trouble with the law. I say that Liam and I deserve something for all the years we put towards your father's well-being, even if he didn't have sense enough to put it in his will. It shouldn't all go to your brother and you, off at your big job across the country, too busy to deal with your family and their problems."

Cameron turned red as Rosie was speaking, but she remained strangely quiet for a moment after. "Get out," she said, quietly. "You don't know me, now get out." Rosie seemed to grasp how serious Cameron was being so she packed up her things, shoving some knickknacks from the house into her purse as she went, and headed for the door.

Liam followed, and grabbed Cameron's arm on the way out. "Hey," he said, quietly, in a low voice, "You need anything, you just give me a call. I had your father's back, and I've got yours. I told him I'd look out for you kids, and now that you're an… well, you're an adult…"

"Liam," said Cameron, "Your wife is waiting. Get out." She shook his firm grasp off her arm, rubbing the spot where he had touched. Liam and Rosie got into their car and drove away, and suddenly, it was very silent in the house. Cameron turned around to House. "Let me introduce you to my father's friends," she said, then nervously giggled.

House just then realized that he hadn't spoken for this entire exchange. No snarky comments, no sarcastic quips, and no serious inquiries to make. The only time he considered speaking was to tell Liam to get his hands off Cameron and to tell Rosie to mind her own business, but he knew Cameron wouldn't approve of him interfering.

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"Do I get a tour?" House asked, once Cameron had moved their bags inside, locked the door, and began flipping through the pages on the table.

"Oh! I forgot you've never been here. Alright. We're in the kitchen-dining room area, and to the right is the living room." House peered in. There was a comfy looking couch and some chairs in the living room, along with a majestic fireplace. The room only held a sparse TV, and papers and books littered the room everywhere. In fact, they littered the whole house.

"To the left, we have a bathroom, then you have all the bedrooms upstairs." They ascended the stairs to the second floor, House imagining a young Cameron and her brothers running around the spacious floorplan. "Here is where you can sleep. This is the room my brother's shared. My dad moved their beds out though, so now there's just one bed." The room was large and painted a grayish blue. The moldings and the ceiling were pure white, and the carpet still smelled fresh. It hadn't been lived in.

"This used to be my room, I'm going to sleep in here. All of my things are gone, though." House peered in on Cameron's room. It was painted a pale purple, and she was right, there was nothing in it, like someone had gone through and tossed her things away. All that remained was a large four-poster bed and some bookshelves.

"My dad's room is down the hall, and there's another bathroom up here." They went back downstairs, and Cameron showed him the entrance to the attached garage, the back patio, and the pool. House had a feeling he might enjoy his stay here.

Cameron spent the next couple of hours on her laptop, researching lawyers and realtors, though it was far too late to actually call one. She made lists of everything she had to do. House planned as well, deciding he needed to go for a swim soon, get to the grocery store, and rent some movies. Yes, he was settling in nicely. Still, something was bothering him about his former duckling.

"Cameron, why aren't your bedrooms lived in?"

"After…." She paused, thinking about how to continue, "We lived with my dad a few weeks every year, probably a total of about 6 weeks. When I was fifteen, my brother Josh was seventeen, and my brother Collin would have been about fourteen, we were with him and he had a particularly bad episode. It was scary. He would come home in the middle of the night and he wouldn't be himself, and he would just yell at us or at the math, and we couldn't calm him down.

"We didn't tell my mom, but of course she found out. She freaked out at my dad and took him to court, and they ruled he was unfit to see us at all until he cleaned up his act. My dad just… he gave up on being a father after that. He emptied my room, converted my brothers' room, stopped sending cards for birthdays and Christmas and he never called," she looked down, as if coming to some awful realization.

"Cameron, it's not your fault. Your father needed professional help and-"

"Didn't you hear Rosie? I could have gotten him professional help! Why didn't I? He's my father, House!"

"Cameron, he needed to admit he had a problem first, and besides, it's not your responsibility to take care of your parent," he said, exasperated by her guilt complex.

"Then whose responsibility is it?" she yelled.

"Cameron…" he said, and she turned and looked up at him upon hearing her name, tears welling in her eyes.

"There was nothing you could do."

"But you don't know that!" she yelled, anger in her voice but a pleading in her face, begging him to come up with a reason why she couldn't have done anything more to prevent her father's death.

"He's an addict, Cameron, and he died of an overdose. You can't just step in and tell him you're sending him away to get better. This kind of thing takes his admission of a problem, plus endless support from a sponsor. You couldn't be there for that."

"I'm going upstairs. Goodnight, House."

And just as abruptly, she closed her laptop, gathered her luggage and went up to her room. A couple minutes later, he heard the shower run. He wanted to go up there and comfort her, but he knew he couldn't. Not yet. Not yet?


	8. Standard Deviation

**Chapter Eight: Standard Deviation**

**a/n: here's another one, let me know what you think!**

When House woke up the next morning, he smelled coffee. Without giving a second thought to his appearance or location, he followed the scent downstairs to the kitchen and got himself a cup of the hallowed beverage.

"There's no food," said Cameron, and House glanced at his former ducking wearing shorts and a T-shirt as pajamas, since the AC wasn't on. Maybe his eyes lingered for a bit longer than a standard glance.

"We should get some," said House, only half paying attention.

"Yeah, we can do some shopping, then I have to meet with a realtor, and stop off at the lawyer's office later today."

"Well look at you. I think I'll go for a swim."

She gave him an annoyed glance but left the room, going back upstairs to change. House finished his coffee, and after truly finding nothing edible in the kitchen, decided he would wait until they made it to the grocery store.

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Perusing the aisles of a Las Vegas grocery store with Allison Cameron beside him was something that House never pictured himself doing. It was very surreal. As she bagged peaches and tossed them into the cart, he picked up bags of sour gummi worms and cheetos. She picked up boneless, skinless chicken breast, and he threw in some bacon. She regarded each of his items with a disapproving eyebrow raise, but she made no comment. He decided she was probably wondering why she invited him at this point, and was going to buy him the food to keep him out of her hair.

He silently passed over his credit card to the cashier and he could feel the shock emanating from her until they got back to the car. "You… you don't pay… for things," she stated awkwardly.

"As proven by the four large bags of groceries in the trunk…" he countered. God, since when did pointless bickering with Cameron become pleasurable?

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When Cameron got back from the realtor's office, House was sitting in the kitchen in swim trunks, preparing himself lunch. He had spent the morning in the pool. Cameron had some time before she had to meet the lawyer, so she was going to try to go through some of the papers in the living room.

The phone rang and Cameron picked it up. A moment later she walked into the kitchen. "It's for you," she told House, shaking her head no at his nonverbal offer of a sandwich.

"God, I should have known you'd give the ducklings this number. Also, don't you ever eat? What do you want?" Cameron pretended none of this was directed at her, and went back to sorting through papers. House switched the phone to speaker so he could better make food, and she began to hear the differential.

After a moment she joined in. "It could be a tumor," she offered, hoping to prompt Kutner to pursue his theory in a new direction.

"Yeah, listen to the pretty blonde one that's not Chase. Come on Cameron, do you think you're fat?"

"It can't be a tumor, biopsy was negative, we told you that," came the annoyed voice of Thirteen.

"Cameron's not fat," said Kutner, confused.

"It could be explained by Munch-"

"Don't even go there," said House, cutting Cameron off. "Did your father feed you?"

"What kind of question is that, House? And while we're on this topic, he was not overweight, or underweight."

"The patient's weight could explain…" but Cameron didn't hear the rest, because at that moment, House switched the speakerphone off.

A few minutes later the conversation ended, and Cameron was packing up her bag to meet the lawyer.

"You need to lighten up," said House, staring at her with his mock-studying face.

"Sorry, I just don't need your constant teasing while I'm trying to get my father's affairs straightened out." She turned away from him as she slipped her sandals on.

"We should go out later, come on, it will be fun!" House looked up at her encouragingly, internally begging her to approve his plan.

"Ughh," she groaned. "We'll see how eager I am after I meet with this lawyer."

"Come on, Cameron, you don't want Thirteen to be known as the only party girl, do you?" he asked, nudging her and making her stutter a bit to the side.

"Frankly, House, I could care less, and I doubt Priceton-Plainsboro wants a head ER attendant who also is great at partying," she said, and walked towards the door.

"You'll change your mind later!" he shouted as she left.

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As it turned out, Cameron did change her mind later, if only because she was so sick of dealing with mundane talk and paperwork she felt she had a well-deserved drink coming to her. She quickly changed and fixed her hair and makeup, and House finished the episode of the teen drama he was watching.

He was amazed by how gorgeous she looked as she came into the living room to tell him she was ready to go. She looked no fancier than Cuddy did on a normal work day, but since House was used to seeing Cameron in scrubs or in well, more conservative apparel, he was happily surprised. She donned a black tank top and dark skinny jeans, and low-heeled but interestingly strappy sandals.

"Cameron, I didn't even know you owned clothes like that," stated House, surprised at his own admission. Since when did he speak to her like a normal human being? Since when did he ask himself so many since when's?

"I can still throw you for a few loops, House," she replied with a slight laugh. "So, did you decide where we're going?"

"Well, I don't really know the area, so let's just head towards the Strip until we find something appealing," he suggested. They got in the car, and as he turned out of the driveway of the out-of-the-way home, she was avidly texting the lawyer and the doctors filling in for her in the ER.

"The realtor says we'll have no problem," she said encouragingly. This started them in on a conversation about the house, and what they talked about with the lawyer, and before either of them knew it, they were parked outside a place called "The Blue Bandit".

The Blue Bandit was not the classiest establishment, but it had plenty of beer, some other drinks, pool tables, music, and hordes of strangers. House walked in and headed straight for the bar, Cameron behind him.

Once they got beers, they found a small open table and sat down. House began cracking peanuts, and Cameron picked at her nails.

"That's not a good habit," he said.

"I know, I picked it up a while ago. I get anxious and then I pick," she explained.

"What are you anxious about?" he asked, although the question seemed almost dumb.

"My father. The significance of the thing. His shit. All that stuff I have to deal with. This. Right now, this crazy bar. I don't know."

House smiled at her, and mentally cursed himself for letting his guard so far down. "You know why you brought me?" he asked, then answered himself without waiting for her response. "To tell you that you're doing just fine, and that you will continue to do fine, and that you don't need to rip off half your finger to convince yourself of that."

She smiled back at him then looked over his shoulder. Her smile faded to a frown, and a look of fear.


	9. Integration

**Chapter Nine: Integration**

"Allie!" said a voice from somewhere over House's right shoulder. House raised an eyebrow and turned around, ready to lash out at whomever decided to upset Cameron. Yet the words became lodged in his throat as he stared at two men in military uniforms, one clearly Allison's brother or long-lost twin.

"C-Collin… what are you doing here?" asked Cameron, nervously putting her drink down and walking over to them.

"It's actually really crazy that I'm even here, I mean, in Vegas, because I couldn't come for dad, but we're at this conference that I really can't talk about for the weekend, so we're on leave tonight. By the way, this is my boyfriend, Nathan."

"Well, it's nice to meet you Nathan," said Cameron, shaking the other man's hand, doing her best responsible-big-sister act. "Collin, why didn't you call? Say you were here?"

"I don't know, I didn't know if you or Josh were coming, and I didn't know if you'd want to see me, and do I even get an introduction?"

"I'm sorry," said Cameron, slightly out of breath, "This is Dr. House, my boss, and this House, this is my younger brother, Collin."

House shook Collin's hand, noticing the name Cameron stitched onto his uniform. He truly looked just like his sister, only a few inches taller and with a much bigger build. House was surprised that he didn't feel the desire to be his usual sarcastic self towards the man.

Cameron broke the silence. "Collin… I haven't heard from you in four years, and even before then we didn't talk much. Please tell me what's going on." House could hear the desperation in her voice, and suddenly he understood her anxiety at seeing him all of the sudden. The must not have left off on a good note.

Still, before Collin could begin to explain, a group of men came over to where they were sitting. House instantly picked up the defensive; he could feel they were very drunk and ready to start trouble. Cameron didn't seem to notice, she was busy trying to get any news out of her brother. Nathan cast nervous glances around the table.

"Hey, gay-boy, get out of here!" one of the men kicked at Nathan's chair and he wobbled for a second, turning bright red. The men because to snicker, which only made them feel like taunting more.

"We don't want any gays in our bar; go find your own place!" They continued, tossing out insults about the army, gays, anything they could think of. Nathan looked like he was going to be sick, and Collin tried to push his way through, but he was trapped. House glanced over towards the bar, but apparently the incident hadn't caught anyone's eye yet.

Suddenly, Cameron stood up. "Get your hands off of him!" she yelled commandingly, "And leave them alone. Go on now, get out of here!" The men released Collin, but they didn't turn away from the table.

"And what is a pretty lady like you doing with two gays and a cripple?" one of the men sneered.

"Yeah, come on now, love, come on with us," said another, grabbing a hold of her arm.

"Don't touch me!" she yelled, twisting away, but the man's firm grip remained on her, and the others moved closer. House stood up and tried to push his way through to Cameron with his cane, and Collin and Nathan both stood up and were taking on a man apiece. Now the fight had taken notice and the staff was trying to pull people apart, but it took quite some time before everyone was separated, and quite a few men wound up with cane wounds.

The police arrived, and witnesses explained how House and Cameron's group was baited, and so they were free to head home. Collin promised to call Cameron once he finished at the conference the next day, and him and Nathan went back to their hotel after bandaging up some cuts and bruises.

House and Cameron drove back to the house in near silence, Cameron sitting on the passenger seat with her knees to her chest.

House took a slice of cold pizza from the fridge when they got home, and settled at the kitchen island. Cameron stood with her back to him, pausing before entering the living room.

"Hungry?" he asked, offering her a slice.

She shook her head and turned to face him, looking at the ground. There was a large purple bruise on her upper arm where the man had grabbed her tightly, and there was another bruise right under her left eye. She also had nail marks along her collar.

"Beer bottle to the face?" asked House, internally shocked at the look of her. He hated himself for ever putting her in a position for this to happen.

She nodded, slightly bemusedly. "It's a really good look for me, I think."

"Cameron, I'm sorry…"

"You didn't know they were going to be such assholes, House, it's fine. It happened, it's fine."

"What about Collin and Nathan?"

"Collin's been bullied his whole life, he'll get through this. Besides, he's proud of who he is, he's not going to let a group of bigots in some low end bar convince him that he's a bad person."

"How do you feel about… him?"

"That he's gay? I couldn't care less. Besides, I've known since we were about ten. That's just Collin for you. The part I don't like is that he thinks he can do things all on his own, and he refuses to keep in touch with me. He creates issues where there are none. He places blame in the wrong people. He just… he's kind of a drama queen."

"Right. Well we can sort all this dysfunction out tomorrow."

"That's true… I should get to bed. Coming?"

"Are you inviting me to your bed? Because if you are, then most definitely I am coming."

" House, I don't really care where you sleep as long as I can get a good nine hours of sleep in tonight."

House smiled excitedly, rinsed off his plate, and followed her upstairs.


	10. The Pythagorean Theory

**Chapter 10: The Pythagorean Theory**

**a/n: It's ba-ackkkk!**

It turned out that House did have to do some real work while in Vegas. The next day found them both on hands and knees in the living room, sorting through papers, books, binders and trash. Cameron just wanted to toss everything, but House insisted that they check for things of worth or truly great work. it turned out that not much truly great work was done in the living room, for it appeared that this is where Professor Donner did a lot of drinking and drug use. House, however, found a winning lotto ticket for 50 dollars and was quite thrilled with his find.

He noticed Cameron was being very quiet, and after a few moments he came over to where she was in the far corner of the room. He kneeled behind her, though his leg protested, and looked at the book in her hands. it seemed to be a journal, and it was lined with the Professor's writing and a few pictures. Cameron had it flipped open to a page near the beginning, and looked at it, silent and shocked.

It read: If i could tell them anything, it would be that I'm sorry. Underneath lay algorithms, equations and mathematical figures scribbled onto the page as it this were any book of notes. In the crease there was a picture of Allison as a child of about thirteen, already unbelievably pretty, with two boys on either side of her. One was a couple inches shorter than her, obviously, unmistakably Collin, and the other was half a foot taller, dark and handsome. Josh held onto his sister's shoulder as all three stared at the camera warily, seated on barstools. It was obvious from the picture that Josh was ready to move on with his life, he was about 16 or 17, but couldn't leave behind his younger siblings.

Suddenly, Cameron was leaning on House, her head buried into his shoulder and chest. He fell back into a sitting position, holding her head against him, feeling the sobs wrack her body even though the tears hadn't begun to fall. She looked up at him for a moment and he understood what she was saying in her glance: I know we're adults and I know I denied it all meaning anything, but I need this right now.

He felt her tears on his chest through his thin t-shirt, and he wanted to do anything to relieve her of her sadness. His own denial of caring for the people around him came back to haunt him right now as he realized he did care how sh felt. He kept his one hand buried in her thick hair as his other hand wrapped around her back, pulling her close to him. She was too overwhelmed to speak clearly, but he could her her mumbling, "He did care…" and "I should have called." She calmed down eventually, and looked up at him with teary, guilt-laden eyes. "I should have gone to the service."

"Maybe," replied House, "But that's over now. Come on, get dressed and we'll go see him." He helped her up, her small hands still clinging to his arms. He noticed in bare feet, she was much shorter than he thought she was. Impulsively, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead lightly, before looking at her, concerned. Surprisingly, she did not pull away but leaned in to his touch. She nodded at him and slowly pulled away, walking up the stairs. House quickly threw the rest of the papers in the trash, setting aside the journal on an end table, and surveyed their work. The room looked much better, even inviting now that the junk was removed. He only then processed what had just come to pass between him and Cameron, and how he could not undo what he had just done. He listened for the sound of running water upstairs, then impulsively dialed Wilson.

"House? What's going on? Is everything alright with Cameron?"

"Yeah. If you include her sobbing on me and a rather intimate encounter just occurring, then everything is dandy."

"What? What?! What did you do?"

"Really, it's not always me. You should have more faith in me than that."

"Well it wasn't her… or was it? Did she..."

"Don't get any ideas in that perverted brain of yours. The impact of her father's death just hit her, and she cried a bit, I cried a bit but not really, and I may have kissed her."

"You what? How- wha?"

"Don't worry, it was the totally noncommittal forehead kiss, purely reassuring."

"Right… right. So now?"

"Now I need to figure out what this is, and not hurt anyone."

"Good luck with that. Do what you think is right, but House,"

"What?"

"Don't fuck this up."

House hung up right away as he heard Cameron on the stairs. She was dressed in a black sweater and a pair of shorts, hair pulled back into a neat bun, her face clean and un-made-up. Her arms were crossed across her chest in a protective fashion, and House immediately stood up when he saw her. She followed his hand with her green eyes as he put his phone into his pocket and grabbed the keys from the counter. She reached for them to take them from him, but House held them back. "I'll drive," he said, with finality.

She sat beside him, quietly for the trip to the cemetery. She only spoke when he asked her directions, her forehead pressed to the window. Her shows were slipped off and under the seat, her feet drawn up onto her seat. He pulled into a spot near the gates and asked if she wanted to walk. She nodded and got out of the car, after slipping her feet into her sandals. House placed the arm that was not holding his cane around her shoulders, and she accepted the touch without acknowledgement. She walked up a path and made a turn, then veered to the right, behind a small fountain. After about five minutes of walking, they reached the grave. "My mom told me how to find it, in case I ever decided to visit." she explained, so House could understand how she knew where to look.

They came upon his grave, and Cameron knelt down. House remained standing, he had done enough kneeling this morning. Cameron unclasped a gold chain from around her neck, and slipped off the pendant that hung from it. The pendant was a medal, gold in color, and engraved with some sort or honors. "This was my father's," she said simply. "He gave it to me so that I could remember there was something to be proud of in him. I never wore it until recently, I was convinced there was nothing in him that I cared about or made my proud to call him my father." She laid the medal down on the gravestone, muttering the familiar sounds of a catholic prayer, and then got up and headed back towards the car. House was surprised at how easy that was, but it seemed Cameron had already got all her emotions regarding her father out. She just needed that visit to say goodbye.

That night, House enjoyed himself as Collin and Nathan came over and grilled some burgers. They had a lot of interesting stories to share, and so did House, once he had a few of the beers the guys brought over. Even Cameron seemed to be having a pretty good time, although she didn't do more than pick at her food or speak more than she had to. Much later, when the stars had come out, House approached Collin by the grill, asking him about Cameron when she was young. He made sure she was deep in conversation with Nathan before he gave Collin the go-ahead.

"Allison was… well she was a little messed up for sure, we all were, but she was a great sister. She was always so smart, and she was an athlete. She won a bunch of volleyball titles. She was always taking care of me, hitting guys who teased me and defending me in front of my parents, because she and Josh had to kind of be like parents. My mom wasn't like my dad at all, luckily, but she was very strict and very distant. We still go see her at holidays, but she seems more like an aunt to me than my mother. Can I ask you something?"

"No I won't, and it wouldn't be fair to Nathan if I did."

"No, no," said Collin with a smile, "Do you like my sister? I know she introduced you as her boss, but…"

"No, your sister is just my piece of lobby art." Collin laughed at House's joke, despite the insult to his sister.

"You keep telling yourself that," he said with a wink.

Later, after the boys left, Cameron informed House they had a buyer for the house. "Almost everything is settled with the lawyer too, there's nothing I can't do from Princeton, so we're heading home the day after tomorrow."

House was saddened that he had to cut his vacation with Cameron short, though he would never admit it. "Let's enjoy ourselves tomorrow, then."

"You always enjoy yourself," was her teasing reply. House stripped down to his underwear and Cameron slipped into a tank and tiny shorts. They both got into the same bed, pretending that there was nothing strange about it, and fell asleep after the exhausting evening.


	11. DNE

**Chapter 11**

"But you have to!" House whined at Cameron, trying to convince her to order the house special super breakfast plate. "That's why we came here!"

"We came here so you could eat it, not me." House looked on disappointedly as she ordered french toast, but was glad to see her getting something more filling than tea or cottage cheese.

It was their last day in Vegas, and they spent the earlier part of the morning cleaning up the house and packing to go back to Princeton. House had put cartoons on the television, and Cameron had walked downstairs to grab coffee in her underwear. They had really settled in to living under the same roof. House wondered if things would change when they went back to Princeton, and he wondered if Cameron wondered the same thing.

"Come on, we need to go gambling!" said House, eager to make his last day in Vegas a great one.

"House, it is eleven thirty in the morning."

"So?"

"My father had a gambling addiction."

"So?"

"House, I'm not going with you."

"Such a buzzkill. Ok then, princess, what would you like to do today?"

"I don't know, House, what about finish up working on my father's house? What about a nap?"

"No, no, no. All work and no play makes Cameron really… hmmm… I'll have to think about how to end that one. But you're not allowed to act lame and depressed today. I mean, it's Vegas!"

"House, I grew up here, kind of. Well, here and Ohio, but somewhat here. The point is, it's not the same for me. This isn't a vacation, it's like seeing your family on the holidays."

"Well it doesn't have to be like that, come on!"

After breakfast, House sat behind the wheel, and while Cameron took turns complaining and calling colleagues, he drove out to the strip and forced her to get out of the car.

They went into a casino and House walked straight to the slots. "Come on, Cameron, loosen up. The grannies even love it here!" he pleaded, earning him some dirty looks from the old women working the slots. Eventually he won Cameron over, and they won a little money on the slots, which they promptly lost in Blackjack.

Cameron left the casino around five PM, laughing and holding onto House's arm. "Come on," she said, dragging him towards the car, "We need to finish packing and getting ready. We have to get up at 4 tomorrow morning."

Sadly, her voice of reason won out, but it didn't stop House from running into the grocery and grabbing two cheap bottles of wine. Before she could protest, he had gotten them home, poured two glasses, and played some music over the record player. It was some really nice jazz, and House watched as Cameron seemed to unclench, letting out the tension in her shoulders and taking down her hair.

She sipped the wine, making a small face at the low quality of it, and then settled back on the couch. House sat beside her, and before he knew it, she was on him. She grabbed his wine glass and her own and put them on the table, then took his face in both of her hands, and pulled him forward and kissed him. House leaned into her as she straddled him, and deepened the kiss, not bothering to question why this was happening. After a few minutes, he followed her up to the bedroom.

House awoke again at four in the morning, and was surprised to find himself hugging Cameron's small frame against his own. He shook her awake, telling her to turn off the damn alarm so he could get some sleep. She turned it off and came back to the bed, kissing him once, slowly. "Thank you," she said.

"For what?" House asked, genuinely uncertain.

"For being here for me. For helping me with all this. For making me have fun. For… for this," she said, kissing him again and laying him back, resting her head on his chest.

"Come on," House said, mock-scolding her. "Don't want to miss our flight…"

Cameron slept almost the entire ride back to Princeton, while House could not, a role reversal from their last flight together. She rested her head on his shoulder as she slept, drawing the thin airline blanket around her. House gently brushed a few stray strands of hair from her face.

Once they got back to Princeton, House called Wilson to pick them up. He didn't seem happy to spend his break doing that, but he obliged them mostly because Cameron needed a ride just as badly. "Could have called Chase," jokes Wilson as they made their way to Cameron's apartment.

"Why, has he been talking about me?"

"No more than usual, but I can tell he wants you back pretty badly."

"Great…" she said, sighing tiredly. House suddenly wished they were back in Vegas, away from the pressures and drama of Princeton.

Cameron thanked Wilson for the ride, slipping him some gas money, and took her luggage up to her apartment, insisting to the guys she could do it herself. Wilson turned on House as soon as she had shut the door.

"So?"

"So what?"

"So what happened is Vegas?"

"That, proverbially, stays in Vegas, I think."

"House, that's not funny. What went on between you two? Did you do it?"

"Well, that was forward. We might have slept together once…"

"House! This is major! Did she initiate it or did you? Was she under the influence of any drug or alcohol?"

"Wilson, first, it's none of your business, and second, she initiated it, totally sober. Third, can you take me back to my apartment now?"

Wilson sighed and drove House home, helping him with his luggage. He then took off back to the hospital, where he still had to finish a shift.

The next day, House was back at the hospital at ten AM. Kutner poured him a cup of coffee, and House thought of Cameron. He made a mental note to go visit her soon. Thirteen gave him a questioning look, to which he gave her a knowing look.

"Just once?" she asked, and he nodded. Taub and Kutner looked on confused.

"Next time, maybe you can join in, if you're good."

"Gee thanks, House, but it seems we have a patient, so next time might just have to wait."

They discussed their patient for about a half hour, and after sending his ducklings to run blood cultures, he headed down to the ER. The fluorescent lights and bright white paint made the ER seem more like a mental institution, and House hated coming down here as a rule. The nurses stared at him in confusion and shock as he entered, and then tore through to Cameron's office. She was not at her desk, but he could see the mountains of paperwork she was currently working through on display. There was nothing interesting, so he moved on to finding her.

She was standing over a patient in one of the treatment rooms, suturing up a large gash in her patient's leg. Her scrubs and gloves were covered in blood, and her hair was disheveled. She finished and discharged him, tossing her gloves away and leaving the room. House followed her back to her office, where she took off her scrub top and searched for another shirt.

"House!" he said, spotting him. She blushed and then quickly threw on a black v-neck sweater, understanding that the image of her in her black bra was still fresh in House's mind. "What's going on?"

"Patient presents with fever, rash near the hoo-hah, a tremor, and rapid blinking."

"Um…"

"Shut up, that's not why I came down here."

"And the reason you came down here… was to tell me to shut up?"

"No, maybe I just wanted to see you, and see if you could grab lunch."

"I actually told Chase I would meet him for lunch, you're welcome to j-"

"No thank you, I might just puke in my mouth watching your pretty faces."

"Oh. Right then." Cameron nervously shuffled the papers around on her desk, blushing again. House could already see the change from Vegas and wondered if she regretted their night together. And now she was meeting stupid Chase for lunch…

"Well, I guess I'll be going. You know, things to do, patients to save,"

"Yeah, nice seeing you, House,"


	12. Separation of Variables

Chapter 12

Although House had threatened to puke in his mouth, he truly could avoid spying on Cameron's lunch with the Wombat. He went down to the cafeteria, got his usual reuben-no-pickles, refused to pay, and began scouring the cafeteria for Cameron or Chase. He finally saw them, sitting at a corner table, and sat a few back, facing Chase, because he knew he'd be less likely to be noticed in that direction.

Chase was explaining something to Cameron excitedly, and she smiled at him, agreeing. House couldn't help the sudden surge or anger that rose up in him; he couldn't help but imagining Cameron getting back together with Chase.

He saw Chase check his watch and then quickly rush off back to surgery, and House plopped down in his vacated seat. "How did I know you wouldn't be able to keep away?" she asked sarcastically, poking at her wilted salad.

"So, what are the secret plans we're forming without me?"

"As a matter of fact, House, you're included in this one. Chase wanted to get us together for dinner; you, him, Foreman, and me, you know, the original four, and catch up. I'm not a huge fan of Chase at the moment, but I happened to agree that his plan was a good one."

"When?"

"Tomorrow night, if you're around, at Louie's."

"Is Chase paying? If so I'm having filet mignon, and leaving half of it."

"I think he might be paying, but it would be nice of you to at least finish your food."

"Hmm… I'll consider it. Want to go for drinks tonight?" House looked at her hopefully, trying to gauge where their relationship currently stood.

"I actually have something I need to do tonight, but let's do it another night."

"Are you just trying to push me off indefinitely, because I can make it easier and just stop asking now."

"No, actually. I'm not lying, my mom is in town, and I'm going to dinner with her, provided I don't get stuck in the ER til midnight again. She would be a little disappointed if I blew her off for drinks with a coworker."

"Oh." Said House, standing. "Tell her Housie says hello!" He leaned towards her, sneaking a small kiss onto her cheek, and winked at her when he caught sight of her surprised expression. Then, before she could say a word, he turned on his heel and hobbled out of the cafeteria.

When House came into work the next morning, he was surprised to find his team missing, probably helping sick people or something. Correction, most of his team was missing; Thirteen stood leaning in his office doorway. She handed him a coffee as he passed by.

"What?" snapped House, settling in behind his desk with his coffee and a gossip magazine.

"What's up with Cameron?" Thirteen asked, walking towards House.

"She doesn't bat for that team, calm yourself down," said House, in a sarcastic tone.

"No… no. Is everything alright with her? She looked pretty happy when you got back from Las Vegas, but now she just looks really stressed out, and not so great. She lost a lot of weight, you know."

"Yeah, she's been taking diet tips from you," quipped House, upset by this news. He thought that Cameron had been acting strangely, but he didn't want to believe something was actually going on with her. "No," said House after a pause, "I don't think she's alright, but I have no idea what's wrong."

Thirteen shrugged and took a sip of coffee from her steaming mug. She then began filling him in on all the exciting details about their current patient, and he began questioning why he came in today.

Chase stopped by the diagnostics room later that day, checking to see if Foreman and House were on for dinner that night.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, Wombat, I'll be there." House noticed that he felt a little jealous when Chase was around. He wasn't even with Cameron anymore, yet House resented that they used to be a couple. He internally kicked himself for all the years she pined after him (or at least that's how he liked to imagine it) and he paid her no attention.

The evening came soon enough, and House showed up at the restaurant to find Chase and Foreman already there. He sat down with them, and let them continue their conversation. He glanced at the fancy menu.

"So," Chase was saying, "I don't really know what's up with her. She's been acting pretty distant lately and she doesn't look well, but she's confusing me. Agreeing to lunch but not to dinner or anything."

"Well, she's coming to dinner now."

"Yeah, because you and House are here, I don't reckon she'd go out with me alone… if she even shows up here tonight."

House wanted to quip something insulting to Chase, but he held his tongue. At that moment, Cameron appeared and sat at their table, her silky shirt and dark, skinny pants making House wish they were out in Vegas again.

"I'm so sorry I'm late. My mother is staying with me, and well, I don't exactly know when she's leaving, and it's just kind of hectic at my house. But it's great to see you guys outside of work." She leaned across the table and gave Foreman a hug, and then greeted Chase and House.

House watched Cameron reading her menu; he could see small scabs on the back of her hands. He watched her absentmindedly pull them from view. Once they ordered, they discussed some of the hospital gossip, and how the diagnostics team was doing.

"Thirteen's been worried about you, Cam," said House, "But don't worry, I told her you weren't interested, although you really should be."

Cameron frowned at him. "I like Thirteen," she said, and then took a long sip of her ice water. "But I'm really fine. My mom, like I said, has been staying with me, and she's a handful, but I'm doing fine." House watched as she dug her thumbnail into the back of her hand. Neither Chase nor House noticed, though, as the food was being put on the table.

"What is your mom like?" asked House, now intrigued.

"Um, she used to work at a library, and now she just volunteers at a nursing home, but she's usually very nice and an excellent cook and mother. She basically raised my brothers and me alone. But she battles chronic depression, so sometimes she's not herself. But let's talk about something else, why don't we?"

Cameron picked through her food, cutting it all up and not eating much, and she didn't join in the conversation too much after that.

Chase suggested they go for a few drinks after dinner, and Cameron said she better get home, but House and Foreman convinced her to go just for a bit.

They wound up at a dive-bar, and ordered a round of beers. House watched the horse-race that was being shown, and Chase turned to Cameron for some conversation. Within a few seconds, House tuned them in.

Chase was saying, "Why don't you come back to my place after, we can hang out like we used to, we can forget this… separation…" House could tell her was drunk from the way he was slurring his words.

"Chase, we broke up for a reason, you have to remember that. I don't want to forget our breakup happened, I want it like this." Cameron sounded drunk too; House hadn't realized how long they'd been there and how many drinks they'd gotten through. He always pegged Cameron as a lightweight anyways.

"Allison, be reasonable. We just need to work on our relationship. I will be better to you, I will be great to you, come on."

"I need to be at home for a while, to stay with my mom. And Robert, I just don't want us anymore. Now have fun with the guys, I'm leaving."

"At least let me drive you home. You don't even have your car here do you?"

"No, I walked to Louie's. Fine then, drive me home."

House and Foreman left soon after, and House couldn't help feeling that the night had been a little unsavory. On the other hand, he had found out a lot about Cameron in one night. He was curious about her mother, and her scabs. He figured he'd ponder it all in bed. He was just about to turn the lights off when the phone rang.


	13. 314159

**3.14159:**

**a/n: reviews make me post faster!**

"What?" snapped House, unhappy to be disturbed.

"House?" said the female voice on the other end of the line.

"Speaking," said House, with an extra pinch of his usual snarkiness. "Who is this?"

"Cameron, shit, I was trying to call home, and I must have called you by mistake."

"Cameron, is everything OK? Why aren't you at home? Where are you?"

"To answer your questions in reverse order, I'm at the hospital. Chase flipped his car on the way home, and… well, it's totaled. But I'm alright, mostly."

"And the wombat?" asked House, surprised to find himself concerned.

"He's kind of in rough shape. I mean, there shouldn't be any permanent damage, but he's in surgery."

"Why were you calling home?" House asked after a moment, unable to think of anything to say to the news of Chase's injuries.

"My mom's there, and I don't want her to worry, and I want to make sure she's alright."

"Oh. Look, I'm coming into the hospital, do you want me to stop by your apartment and check on your mom?" House had no idea where this sudden urge to get to the hospital came from, or from where he decided he wanted to meet Cameron's mom.

"Um… sure. Alright. I live at-"

"I know where you live. I'll see you in about an hour, then."

House ran into the shower and put on some clean clothes, stuffed some vicodin into his pocket, and got on his bike. He drove to Cameron's apartment and knocked, and got no response. Peeking into a window, he couldn't see any lights on.

He still had his key, and he let himself in, flipping on a light as he passed it. "Hello?" he called, not sure what to address Cameron's mother as. "It's a friend, not a foe." Still no response.

He passed through the small kitchen and went into the guest room. Someone obviously had been living here from the sight of clothes strewn around and the bed linens rumpled, but no one was in the room.

He continued down the hall to the master bedroom, and found the woman he was looking for curled up on Cameron's bed. She was clutching a picture frame and staring off across the room, a certain vacancy in her eyes.

"Well, hello," said House, unsure of himself suddenly. "I'm a friend of Cameron's- Allison's, and she sent me to check up on you. She had to head back into the hospital."

"What is your name?" asked Cameron's mother, in a strange, vacant monotone.

"Gregory House, I used to be Allison's boss."

"Hello, Gregory, I'm Stella." Stella had the same green eyes as Cameron, and she looked like she had once been very beautiful. She was thin, like Cameron, but it didn't fit her. It seemed that she was naturally curvy, and had recently lost the weight. Her complexion was sallow. Her expression was forlorn and a bit hopeless. She looked down at the picture in her hands, the image on which House couldn't see, and seemed to leave the conversation.

"Allison was always a good girl," she said, seemingly out of the blue. House was getting uncomfortable, so he checked that Stella didn't need anything, bringing her some food from the fridge and a glass of water anyways, and told her he would have Cameron call her soon.

He then drove off towards the hospital.

He went to diagnostics first, though he wasn't sure why, and was surprised to see Thirteen sitting at the table, peering through some large medical tome.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Kutner and Taub took off, and I'm stuck making sure our patient doesn't die. I think I'm onto something though… the rash on his back looks like-"

"Great. Did you hear about Cameron and Chase?"

"Yeah, I saw Chase, he looked kind of mangled when he came in. They said his blood alcohol was up, though. Cameron was with him?" she asked, a slight questioning in her eyes.

"He was just driving her home. That's it," he added after a moment. "But you haven't seen Cameron?"

"Nope, I didn't know she was in the car with him."

"Alright, finish your rash research, I'm going to the ER."

Thirteen rolled her eyes at him as he strode out of the room, as fast as he could with his cane. House went down to the ER, and was told Cameron was in an exam room, and House could see her when the attending physician was finished. Of course, House wanted to barge right in on her, but for once, decided against it.

He went to the surgical unit, where he watched Chase's surgery from above. It looked as if he had ruptured an organ, and he had a lot of damage to his left arm. He was also getting a transfusion. He looked rough, but House could see it looked a lot worse than it was; his vitals were strong.

When he returned to the ER, House found that Cameron had been moved to a different room, but he could now see her. He went to her room, strode in, and ducked down to kiss her lips in one motion. Then he stood back to get a good look at her.

She was still grinning foolishly from his kiss, but House could see a pretty significant wound on her right temple, and a lot of bruising down her face. Both of her hands were bandaged, and from the way she was sitting, he guessed some ribs were either bruised or broken.

"Your head feel good?" he asked, with a slight smile.

"Great," she winced, putting a hand to her ribs. "It's a pretty severe concussion, but I did a full neurological workup and there's no brain damage. House sighed in relief over the worry he hadn't even allowed into his consciousness.

"How's Chase?" she said, quietly.

"He's almost done in surgery, and he should be fine, but he's going to be in a bit of pain for a while."

She nodded, and looked down at her hands. She slipped a finger under the elastic bandage that covered her other hand, and House saw her begin to pick at her skin.

"Stop." He said. "Don't hurt yourself."

"Sorry," she said, "Nervous habit. I don't even notice I'm doing it til I take skin off."

"Been anxious lately?"

"How's my mom?" she asked, her eyes widening. "I can't believe I forgot about her. Is she alright?"

"Cam, calm down, she's alright. You've had a rough night; it's understandable that she's not the first thing on your mind. But I brought her some food and water, and left her lying on your bed."

"Thank you," she said quietly, sipping on some water from her bedside table. "I know she's not fun to deal with, but she's getting help."

House nodded, unsure of what to say.

"How long are they keeping you for?"

"Just til the morning, I hope."

"Want to grab breakfast, then?"

"Alright," she said, smiling at him, "But then I need to get home to my mom."

"Deal." He sat down in a chair beside her bed and turned on the TV. He settled on a station with BMX biking, and he held her hand as he watched. She was asleep in minutes.


End file.
